


Just Another Day

by Ekatarinabeisel76



Series: It's A Kind of Magic! [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief (2010), Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Sorcerer's Apprentice (2010), Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Friendship, Gen, latin is awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ekatarinabeisel76/pseuds/Ekatarinabeisel76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One minute Kleo's on the way to her fifth period government class, and the next she's leaping across roofs to flee to the sanctity of Dave Stutler's lab (all for a phone call that Balthazar's going to have to make once he gets back from Arcana Cabana). Enter famed FBI Agent Matthew McCormick, Revelations of magic to the Highlander, new emmerging powers, and a golden retriever name Zeus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nostri Matutina Mors Iter

**Author's Note:**

> I typed this whole thing up and realized that it would be cruel to give it to you in an almost 4000-word chunk, so I cut it into unequal thirds to serve. I apologize if it does not flow properly because of this.  
> Highlander characters c. Davis Panzer productions, created by G. Widen  
> Percy Jackson and the Olympian Characters c. Rick Riordan  
> Xena Characters c. creators and producers of Xena: Warrior Princess  
> Sorceror's Apprentice Characters c. Disney  
> Original Characters c. Ekatarinabeisel76

Kleo could only take the past few months as proof that life is perpetual juxtaposition, particularly in the field of change. To say that things in her life had changed would be a monumental understatement of the obvious that would warrant one of her sharper sarcastic replies, but then again, some things hadn’t changed at all.  
She still attended Yancy Academy. She still lived in New York City with Lao Ma, Mizuki and Akemi. She still had a small group of friends consisting of Morgan, Emily and Alex Solace, Percy Jackson, Grover Underwood, and Aadil Sen. She still played too many sports than was good for her. She still woke up at five every weekday morning. She still worked for the watchers.  
The most disconcerting change came in the fact that her stepmother had married in the space of five months. She had never judged Lao Ma to be rash and spontaneous, but reality seemed to have jumped up and bit her in the face on that judgment call. They hadn’t moved thankfully, because Lao Ma’s apartment was large enough already for ten people, due to her excessive need to rearrange furniture and maintain at least five feet of clear floor space all around her. It was more crowded now, but Kleo found it cozier.  
Carter and Richie were living with them now. At first they had both been very uncomfortable about living with the patchwork family, but Lao Ma had insisted that they move in too. She considered them family because Richie was dear to Kleo and Carter was dear to Haresh, and was not at ease unless her entire family was within shouting distance. In fact, most of their days began with her yelling at them to get up, and this particular day was no exception.  
“Come on Kleo! It’s time to wake up!” the ancient Chinese matron said at a middle register. Kleo knew too well that she would go up by octaves depending on their promptness in obeying her.  
She dragged herself out of bed, and stole a glance out of her bedroom window. It looked like Mother Nature was conspiring to give Lao Ma and Haresh an excuse to drag them all outside on a nice long cross-city run. Kleo sighed; maybe it wasn’t too early to start praying for a sudden apocalyptic storm.  
She managed to stub her toe on the dresser while rummaging around for a pair of shorts and a sports bra. She got the bright idea to turn on the overhead light roughly five minutes later, after she knocked her knee on what she thought was her bedside table. A quick glance around the room once it had been flooded with light verified her assumption.  
Kleo spent so much time working out and getting overheated that she never really bothered with more clothes than she had to, hence her wardrobe choice of running shorts and a racer-back tank top. This was a direct contradiction to how she usually dressed, but she needed less range of motion in Latin class, and she didn’t get quite as sweaty while doing biology labs, even if it was an AP class. Besides, Akemi had a disturbing knack for rooting out her ratty sweats and replacing them with booty shorts and crop tops.  
No sooner had Kleo finished brushing her back into a long tail of ebony curls, than her stepmother called down the hall for her once more. Her voice was decisively shriller and much louder this time. She added a tangent in Chinese that made Kleo wish that she couldn’t understand the language. She stepped out of the bathroom and marched determinedly down the hall, wearing a grimace to match her athletic gear and holding her ipod in hand as a distraction from the torture that was to come.  
“Alright sibs!” Akemi cheered from behind the kitchen counter. She had a pork bun in her hand, and it was almost half gone. “Time to hit the gym!”  
“What are we doing today?” Richie asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.  
Lao Ma looked up at them from the counter with a brilliant smile. She held an ornate antique pitcher of fresh soy milk in her hands, but she was carefully placing it in the fridge instead of pouring it into glasses.  
“Grab a pork bun or Jin dui and a glass of water, and then we’ll stretch and go for a run.” Lao Ma replied. Even Carter and Richie gulped. Haresh continued to wear a broad grin that left everyone else in the apartment rather perturbed.  
“Outside?” Richie asked fearfully.  
“Outside.” Haresh replied.  
Kleo’s face contorted into an awful grimace, and Carter stifled a groan. No one said anything though; they knew better than to complain.  
Everyone grabbed some breakfast and hurried out into the dim light of dawn. It was half past five o’clock in the morning, and the streets of China town were surprisingly well-populated. A few restaurants were just beginning to let in staff and prepare for a busy day. Some of the shops were open as well, mostly the traditional places – herb houses, noodle shops, seamstresses, and the occasional street stand. Most of the people they passed were on their way to work, walking towards the Canal Street stations.  
After twenty minutes spent stretching vigorously under the watchful eyes of Lao Ma and Haresh, they set off. It was a nice easy pace for the first half an hour, but it was uphill from there. They ran in a circuit from St. John’s Park all the way to Columbus park, and then all the way back through the circuit before coming to a stop in front of the apartment. By the time the death march was over, it was a quarter passed seven.  
“Alright, we’re running a little late, so I’ll send breakfast with you on the underground.” Lao Ma said as she fussed about, shoving even more food into their lunch boxes than she already had.  
“Darling, school doesn’t start for another hour and fifteen minutes.” Haresh reasoned with her. Well, he tried to anyway.  
“Five teenagers have to shower, change clothes, and get their things together for school or work – and three of them are girls.” Replied. “We need twice that much time.”  
Carter, Mizuki, and Akemi did their very best not to object to being called teenagers as they downed the contents of their water bottles in ungraceful and driven motions. Carter was almost a thousand years old, and Mizuki and Akemi were at least three times his age, but Lao Ma had considerable years on all three of them. Compared to the other members of their patchwork family, Richie and Kleo were practically babes; a notion that provided great amusement at their expense whenever they met other immortals who were well-acquainted with Haresh and Lao Ma.  
“Too bad, because I am not getting up at three in the morning.” Kleo said as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. Their apartment had seven bedrooms and three-and-a-half baths, so showering wouldn’t be too much of a problem. The real issue came forty minutes later when she and Akemi were done cleaning up and had to put on their make-up.  
Sorer than she had been before she applied her mascara and eyeliner, Kleo rubbed her tender ribs while Mizuki tried to stamp out the ache in her left foot. Akemi However, smiled cheerfully at her perfectly painted-on face. Kleo had never suspected the small Japanese girl was so vicious, but after almost two years of sharing a bathroom mirror with her, she knew otherwise. Mizuki had endured the living arrangement for a few thousand years; Kleo figured that there was hope that she would survive at least a decade.  
Lao Ma began a ferocious countdown of how much time they did not have before they had to leave to catch the train uptown. Her voice rang out through the apartment every five minutes with an update while she bustled around the dining room, still in her workout clothes. She poured glasses of juice, shoved snacks into Kleo’s athletic bag, and rattled off who needed to be where and when.  
At the end of it all she kissed each of them goodbye, much to Richie’s embarrassment, and sent them on their way. They exited the apartment in a line – Kleo, Richie, Carter, and sometimes Haresh. He wrote his books from his office, so he didn’t often have to leave with them at seven sharp. Richie and Carter didn’t usually have to leave until later either, since Haresh had harassed Richie into going to college and Carter had a job as a tour guide at the Museum of Natural History.  
“Bye Sweethearts! I’ll see you later! Behave for your coach Kleo, I don’t want any phone calls home!” she warned. Kleo groaned. How could she have forgotten about practice?  
It was the very beginning of spring season, and because this term’s superintendent of schools had to make some monumental, unprecedented changed in the school system, eight grade was the first year of high school. She had spouted something about integrating students of different ages for higher standards of maturity and learning, but from what anyone in the school could see, it wasn’t going anywhere. This meant that eight-graders such as Kleo had to compete with four other grade levels for spots on the junior varsity or varsity teams.  
Thankfully, she had already made varsity in everything they had tried out for. This, quite unfairly and thus much to Kleo’s chagrinned disdain, meant that she would keep her spot on the teams as long as she didn’t kill anyone too important. The only real upside to playing on a varsity team in their school district was the fact that practices were always after school and never in the mornings.  
Kleo made it all the way through two blocks before anything strange happened, which was, sadly, quite a feat for her. She sensed a presence behind her, but didn’t turn around. The street was far too crowded to discern a face anyway, so she kept walking for another twenty yards or so. Then she heard a voice call out her name.


	2. amicis et amens praeteritum amatores sunt terribilis

“Yo! Kleo!” The voice was male, and loud with its confidence and raw masculinity. Another male voice followed it, uttering a barely audible curse.  
“Damn it Alvarez.”  
“Morning Chris.” Kleo greeted her friend as he came up beside her, matching her pace easily with his long legs.  
Christopher Dixon was tall, strong, and lazy. He had a clear complexion, toned muscles, and smooth facial features, all of which contributed to his imposing air rather similar to that of a copper statue. His Hair was shaggy and brown, while his eyes were a cool grey that conveyed near-constant excitement and kindness. He also wore about his neck, a crown pendant given to him as a gift from his friends on his birthday; he was an obsesive Kingdon Hearts fan.  
The other boy, who had also made himself plainly visibly by now, was quite the inverse of Chris. He had violet eyes, which stood out brilliantly against his pale skin and dark black hair. He kept it cut short, almost too short, because he was in JROTC, although he lacked any semblance of discipline by his own volition. He was also scraping the bottom of the barrel for average height.  
“Hey.”Morgan replied as he evened his pace with Avery’s.  
“I don’t care what Fuller has us doing in softball practice.” Kleo said as they rounded the corner and caught sight of the sign proclaiming their station. “It can’t be worse than what McMann is making us do in volleyball.” Chris laughed.  
“Self inflicted wounds Kleo; you wouldn’t have so many practices if you didn’t try out for so many teams.” Morgan chided her.  
“What else can I do?” she demanded “I have so much energy! If I don’t get rid of it – I don’t even know how to explain it! I just inflate and then I burst and crash with all the pent up energy.” She wrinkled her nose she spoke, as she always did when someone challenged her on her athletic commitments. Morgan had once commented on how ridiculous the expression was, until she socked him in the gut. That had been about a month ago, when their near-year-long run as a couple was nearing the end of an agonizing death.  
“What’s up guys?” asked another familiar voice just as they stood on the precipice of the horde descending the steps into the station.  
This voice belonged to a boy with medium-length golden blonde hair, brown eyes, and a kind smile. He spoke quietly, but what he lacked in volume he made up for in spirit, bravado, and eagerness to have fun.  
“’Sup Alex?” Avery asked.  
“Just lying in wait to ambush you on the way to school, nothing too out of the usual.” He replied with a smile and an imminent laugh.  
“Creepy, don’t you think?” Morgan asked with the slightest edge in his voice.  
“You’re one to talk!” Emily, their sister, shot back.  
Avery and Kleo both rolled their eyes. It was too early for the bickering banter to start. They weren’t even on a train uptown yet!  
“You guys live together – you’re siblingss for God’s sake! Can’t you three get along for a half an hour while we get to school?” Kleo demanded exasperatedly.  
Both boys shook their heads vigorously in response, while Emily remained silent. Emily was very non-confrontational, but her brother’s bickering could drive even Ghandi to violence. Kleo noted the fingers of Emily’s left hand were twitching, no doubt because she was suppressing a violent urge to break something.  
“We’ve met our quota of Pax Solace.” Morgan replied.  
“Let me guess,” Kleo began. “Your Aunt Cassandra duct-taped your mouths shut?”  
It looked as if one of them was going to answer affirmatively, which none of them would have put past Morgan. However, they had finally reached the lines to enter the station proper, and needed to rummage through their pockets to find their metro passes. Once they were all through, they rushed to stand on the platform and jockey for position to enter whichever train-car would pull up closest to them.  
“And they’re off!” Morgan said once the doors to just such a car had opened and a throng of people had departed it, leaving the way clear to their fellow north-bound commuters. He continued his sports-broadcast commentary until they all managed to find space enough to stand in the backmost corner of the car.  
“Granny takes the lead with her grocery bag - I wonder what she has in there, its brown. I can’t see, maybe she’s a terrorist-“ Kleo elbowed him in the ribs very hard. “Investment brokers 1, 2, and 3 jockey for seats with the cripples and the hobos –“ she elbowed him again, a little harder this time. “Ooh! The passed out drunk has taken the lead! He’s using his barf-breathe attack ladies and gentlemen! Not even awake and he’s cleared the whole row of seats! Even the crack hoes are – “ She simultaneously stomped on his instep with the heel of her boot and administered a series of near-lethally accurate punches to his kidney to keep him from finishing that sentence while Emily pressed his ear between her thumb and fore finger in a death grip to rival the Vulcan Neck-Pinch.  
It was too late. Said crack hoes were already staring. One was getting up from her seat, wobbling in her sky-high heels and stumbling a path for her friends to follow. The group, with the exception of Morgan, hoped they were too out of it to follow her. At first they thought they had been lucky, but then the woman, having given up on stumbling over to them, let out a high pitched series of incomprehensible words. Her friends and Morgan apparently understood what she had said, because the three women she was with got up from their seats and begun to attempt to confront them while Morgan simply cackled deviously.  
“What?” Kleo asked asked.  
“What the hell did you say?” his brother queried. Alex had been listening to his Ipod the whole time, and therefore had no idea why a platoon of drug addicts was descending upon their corner of smelly, grimy, albeit cheap transport.  
“Uh…guys?” Chris interrupted. “We should get out, like, now. Our stop is about two seconds away and-“  
He grabbed Morgan by the hood of his camouflage-patterned jacket, effectively keeping him from engaging the enemy by toppling into them due to the law of conservation of momentum, which they were currently exemplifying as the driver hit the brakes a little too suddenly.  
The students rushed to get out of the Third Avenue Station, and proceeded to walk the three blocks to their school. They could have taken a bus, but they didn’t see the point in it. They were all fit kids, and Kleo personally shuddered to think of what Lao Ma would say if she started to exhibit signs of laziness.  
They continued to discuss the mundane things that they expected to happen while they were at school that day. Rumor had it that Jacob Sears and Thomas Malkovich were going to get into a fight during the break between first and second period. Almost all of them had to get their butts in gear to prepare for the big Arts Festival for Music in our Schools Month. Ms. Levinson was going to give them two more class periods to finish their ancient papyrus art project. Such was the disjointed speculative news of the day at Yancy.


	3. In Satyrum est Salierit

The group of teens made their way to the doors leading to the boy’s locker room, knowing that Percy, Aadil, and Grover would have no choice but to exit through there. The conversation wore on, stumbling on its last legs, before the bell rang and their four friends appeared.  
“Hey guys.” Percy greeted them.  
They all chorused back with various forms of greeting, except for Alex (who hadn’t heard a word of the conversation because he was still listening to his ipod) and Morgan (who simply couldn’t muster up the cheerfulness to greet a friend on a Monday with any sincerity).  
Mariah was dressed brightly as usual, in hi-top green converse, black stockings, a denim skirt, and a rock band sweatshirt worn over a white camisole (causing all of them question how she had snuck into the boys locker-room unseen with Aadil, Percy, and Grover that morning). Her hair, died blue this week, and her silver nails, clashed severely with Emily’s red jacket and crisply starched white skirt. Aadil wore his usual polo T-shirt and jeans; he liked to wear striped shirts, usually composed of red, white, green, or blue, but Kleo swore that he picked his shirts with interior design swatches.  
“So, what are we doing in Latin today?” Grover asked.  
“We have a quiz don’t we?” Morgan asked. He thoroughly enjoyed the look of sheer panic that flitted across Percy, Nick, Grover, and Chris’s faces. Emily elbowed him in the ribs.  
“He’s joking guys.” Aadil told the rest of their group. “The quiz is on Thursday.”  
“So, what are we doing in class?” Mariah repeated Grover’s earlier question.  
“Reviewing infinitive forms and their use in text samples, and he should be giving us a new vocabulary sheet since we’re almost done with this unit.” Emily said.  
“Oh, right.” Percy said. Then, after a pause, “What unit are we on?”  
Kleo groaned. Emily joined her. chris shook his head. Morgan just laughed, and Alex continued to listen to his music. Mariah hadn’t heard what Percy had asked, so she didn’t know what everyone was reacting to.  
“Geography, astronomy, and place names.” Aadil answered as they rounded the upper level landing.  
They continued to walk to their classroom in pleasant conversation. No one really wanted to talk about their weekend because they didn’t think they had done anything really interesting, or that they hadn’t recounted to the group before. With nothing else to talk about, they settled on the topic of the rather portly new administrator.  
Aadil made the observation that she looked as if she were kin to a bulldog that lived in his apartment building. Mariah replied indignantly that she thought bulldogs were adorable. Chris pointed out that Assistant Principal Chasse was not in any way adorable. As they entered Mr. Brunner’s classroom, Emily added a few more traits to the list. After they had taken their seats and had been ordered to silence for the beggining of the school ritual of reciting the pledge of allegiance and having a moment of silence, Kleo leaned down the row so they could all stand a chance of hearing her suggest that perhaps the bulldog that lived in Aadil’s building was their new Assistant Principal.  
Mr. Brunner silenced all of them with a look when they burst into laughter, but his gaze was soft. His eyes brokered no refusal or attitude, but he did not look displeased with them for laughing. In fact, he looked like he always did – content, pensive, and amused. He moved his wheelchair to the front of the classroom by means of the joystick on the right arm of his chair, and cleared his throat. Everyone in the class knew by now to turn around and silently wait for what he had to say. Those that had failed to learn that had mysteriously made the decision to drop the class rather early on in the year.  
“Before we get into today’s class, I want to give you all some information on the class field trip we will be taking in June. This trip will be in tandem with the English department, as your curriculum states that you will begin to focus on classical literature in a few weeks. I know that June seems like a long ways off, but you all need to take one of these – “ he handed a pile of papers to the front row for them to pass to the people behind them, “- and get it signed by your parents.”  
Kleo and Emily shared excited glances at each other. They seemed to be the only students looking forward to the field trip. Even though it was only Late February, they both put it down as something to look forward to at the end of the school year. Kleo did this by writing it down in her planner, while Emily simply wrote it on the back of her left hand in a long list of other things she had to do.  
“Do they realize how dangerous this is?” Grover asked. He seemed to be a little bit more concerned about the trip than he should have been.  
“What? Taking a bunch of psycho kids to a museum filled with really old and invaluable artifacts? Probably.” Kleo responded.  
“Yeah.” Grover said tentatively. “That’s what I meant.” His voice was a just slightly uneven, but no one questioned him. Grover, as they had learned over the last year of knowing him, was anxious by nature. They didn’t see any need to try to assuage his fear now – it never worked. Therefore none of them felt worse for wear when they diverged from each other a few moments later to attend separate classes. None of them had any reason to believe that today would be any different from the days before it, or the ones that would come after it. They were, all nine of them, very wrong.


End file.
